


Heliocentrism

by the_quiller



Category: Naruto
Genre: Being Kushina is suffering, Crazy shinobi is nothing new, F/M, Gamer!Minato, Gen, Minato is politely crazy, Other, The rest of the universe just rolls with it, canon gets twisted into a pretzel, this can't possibly end well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-17 14:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9330155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_quiller/pseuds/the_quiller
Summary: Everyone sees the world differently. Namikaze Minato just sees it a little more differently than usual."It's not your chaotic evil alignment that's the problem, Orochimaru. It's just that if you really wanted to be Hokage, you shouldn't have made charisma your dump stat."(the Gamer!Minato AU you never knew you wanted)





	1. A Protagonist is You

Being a shinobi, in all honesty, simply meant that you could tell common sense to fuck off, and common sense would listen. Most shinobi could laugh in the face of Gravity by the time they hit puberty and had the poor Law of Conservation of Energy sobbing in a corner by the time they hit their prime. The more powerful the shinobi, the more laws of nature they left shattered into tiny, irreparable smithereens. At the truly absurd levels of power, even Death itself became nothing more than a polite suggestion that could be ignored at whim.

Incredible, reality warping power came at a price, however. That price was usually their sense of self-preservation, morality, reason, reasonableness, or general mental wellness.

In a nutshell, the stronger the shinobi, the more batshit crazy they tended to be. Normal human brains weren't meant to handle godlike powers anyway.

Namikaze Minato was just a tad stronger than most shinobi.

It logically followed that he would be just a tad crazier too.

. . .

Fukui Toko had long since lost count of how many children had come through the Konoha Orphanage. They came from all over Fire Country at all sorts of ages from all sorts of backgrounds. She had seen some of her kids bounce back from horrors that would have left a hardened shinobi in emotional shambles. She had seen others break so completely that not even Tsunade-sama herself could piece them back together again. Some kids were selflessly kind; others, thoughtlessly cruel. There were so many children – far more than any orphanage matron ever hoped to see – but even after so forty years of service, she still found herself constantly surprised by their sheer diversity of character.

In fact, the orphanage had just gotten another child that quietly refused to act like any other child Toko had ever seen. She couldn't remember his name, but the dandelion blonde hair and strikingly blue eyes certainly left an impression.

The little boy was sitting in the playroom with a rather worn second-hand picture book that some kind soul had donated to the orphanage. The boy opened the book ( _EXP gained: INT +0.25%_ ), then closed it. Then opened it again ( _EXP gained: INT +0.25%_ ), and then closed it. Then opened it ( _EXP gained: INT +0.25%_ ). Then closed it. He had been intently doing nothing but opening and closing the book for almost four hours now.

Toko knelt down next to the boy and asked kindly, "Would you like me to read that out loud for you?"

The boy shook his head, his dandelion blonde hair catching the light in all directions like a sunburst. He continued opening and closing the book without peeling his eyes away from it for even a second.

"Well, would you like to read it out loud for me then? ( _New Quest! Regale Fukui-san with 'Adventures of the Fluffy Bunny'! Accept/Cancel_ )" Toko offered instead, keenly aware of the self-sufficient streak she saw all too often in orphans.

This inquiry gave the boy pause. His head tilted slightly to the side in a contemplative pose before his face finally broke into a shy smile and he gave Toko a small nod. ( _ **ACCEPT**_ _/Cancel_ )

He softly cleared his throat and held the book out in front of himself as far as his little arms could reach so that she could see the pictures too when he started reading. It was a simple book – each full-page illustration was accompanied by only a simple sentence - but Toko was impressed with the boy's ability to read all the same. Many civilian orphans never became literate, and certainly never at such a young age.

When the boy finished ( _Quest complete! EXP +12.5%! +100 Reputation with Konoha Orphanage!_ ), Toko could have sworn she heard a soft chime in the back of her mind (- _Ding- Level up! You are now Level 5! +5 Attribute points!_ ) and the boy's bright blue eyes almost seemed to glow even brighter with intelligence ( _INT 36 +5 = INT 41_ ). It was the oddest feeling, as if she had missed something very important about this child, but it was also a feeling Toko was very familiar with.

It wouldn't be the first time a genius had passed through Konoha Orphanage. Fukui Toko had seen a lot of children come and go, and she trusted what her gut was telling her about this one.

Toko very gently patted the boy's head.

"Forgive an old lady's memory, but what was your name again?"

"Namikaze Minato," he said quietly, and there was a quiet ring of certainty in his voice that hinted at something Toko couldn't quite grasp.

It was, perhaps, only the first of many things about Namikaze Minato that she would never quite figure out, Toko suspected. Children like this one – who looked at you like they could see straight through your every thought, but whose own thoughts were as opaque as a fathomless sea –would never be happy within the confines of this orphanage, or even in any kind of civilian life.

She scrubbed her fingers through his soft, sunshine blonde hair and made up her mind.

"Minato-kun, how do you feel about becoming a shinobi?"

( _Prologue Complete!)_  
(New Quest! Become an Academy Student!)  
(New Area Unlocked: Konoha Academy!)  
(New Class Unlocked: Academy Student!)  
(Now Loading...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are already plenty of Gamer!Naruto stories out there that are written by authors a helluva lot more talented than I am, so I decided to try something different by picking someone else to dump all the video game shenanigans on, and play around a little with the point of view and overall plot structure.
> 
> Let's just say this is not a story about Minato getting ridiculously strong (although he does do that), and more a story about the insanity that would ensue if he did, in fact, behave like a game character.
> 
> Also, I'm in rather dire need of a beta reader with the patience of a saint. Any one up for it?


	2. The Obligatory Tutorial Dungeon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which many people learn many things, but Namikaze Minato is not one of those people.

Akimichi Saburou had signed up for Academy to be an ass-kicking, name-taking god of war. No more talk of taking over his mother's restaurant, no more hiding behind Chouza-aniki when the other clan kids picked on him – he was going to be a real ninja! Enemies would be so scared they'd flee at the very sight of him. He was going to be great, no, better than great. He was going to be goddamn _legend_.

Unfortunately, he was also going to be asleep in his very first class if the teacher kept droning on like this.

"What makes you a truly great shinobi will not be how fast you are, how strong you are, or even how many techniques you know," the teacher said, which might have been inspiring if it hadn't been delivered in a bland monotone. "It will be your resourcefulness, your teammates, and your inner Will of Fire." Saburou straightened in his seat and tried to look attentive as the teacher's gaze drifted in his direction, but couldn't stop his eyes from watering as he fought down an enormous yawn.

' _I'm bored. And kinda hungry. When's he gonna start teaching us real ninja skills?_ ' Saburou wondered. Hopefully within the next five minutes, because Saburou wasn't sure he could hold out any longer than that without giving in to the sweet temptation of sleep.

As if in answer to his prayers, a knock on the door interrupted the teacher mid-sentence. Frowning, the teacher aborted his lecture and opened the door.

It was a masked ANBU. Saburou could see several of his classmates straighten in their seats as a murmur of excitement rippled through the room. Saburou craned his neck to see over the people in front of him.

The ANBU made several quick hand signals that caused the teacher to frown, and then nod brusquely. Then the teacher turned back towards them and said, "Remain in the classroom and talk amongst yourselves. This shouldn't take long." Then he made a hand sign and both he and the ANBU disappeared from sight in twin puffs of smoke.

The class immediately exploded into excited chatter.

"What do you think the ANBU is here for?"

"I bet there's a spy in the Academy!"

"Maybe the village is under attack!"

"Maybe our teacher was implicated in an administrative error that caused some kind of intra-village political fallout!"

"...what?"

"...uh, he screwed up and now the important people are mad at him."

"Well why didn't you just say so?"

Before complete anarchy could set in, however, the oddest thing happened: small pink cherry blossoms began to fall all around them, despite the fact that they were indoors.

The sounds of excitement and speculation shifted into puzzlement and confusion. Several people tried to catch the falling flowers, but the petals winked out of existence as soon as they touched anything solid.

"( _Skill_ _EXP gained: Diagnose +5.00%_ ) We're under a level 2 genjutsu debuff," said the blonde kid sitting in front of Saburou. It was the first time he had spoken up all day, and his observation was voiced in the same polite tone that one might discuss the weather.

So it took a moment for everyone to realize that the weather in question was _the rain of deadly cherry blossoms that was going to kill them all._

"I don't suppose anyone knows the dispel skill?" added the blonde, looking a bit sheepish as he rubbed the back of his head.

Saburou didn't. And by the ' _oh shit_ ' expressions on all of his classmates' faces, no one else did either.

One kid burst into tears. The others made a panicked stampede for the door. Or rather, they tried to make a stampede for the door, but everyone was moving kind of sluggishly, so it looked more like a spontaneous session of interpretative slow dance. One boy managed to wobble all the way into to door and sank down into a boneless heap right in front of the exit; no one else even got that far.

Saburou would have gotten up to make his own break for it, but for some reason, his head was just too heavy to lift off the desk. Wait, when had he even placed his head on the desk anyway? And why were his eyelids getting heavier too? They were under attack! This was the worst possible time to go to sleep!

But his eyes were so heavy...

' _No,_ ' he mourned as his vision faded to black, ' _It can't end like this! I never got to become a legend. I never got to eat my lunch either! Momma's gonna say 'I told you so' at my grave..._ '

. . .

...or not, because Saburou woke to a mouthful of rags, a splitting headache, and an incredibly uncomfortable lump digging into his back.

"Mmmffffmmmm!" Saburou swore, or tried to swear despite being gagged and having the vocabulary of a six-year-old. His first instinct was to bolt for safety, but he quickly aborted that plan as soon as he realized that both his hands and his feet were bound. Plan B, curl up in a ball and cry like a baby, was still physically possible, but Saburou dismissed that plan as well because it'd still leave him stuck in this predicament.

That left Plan C, which was to suck it up, ask himself WWND (What Would a Ninja Do?), and then do it.

A real ninja would probably get out of these ropes first, so Saburou looked frantically around the tiny cell for something that he could use to untie himself. Nothing, damn. Well, he really didn't want to resort to this, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Summoning up all his ninja fortitude, Saburou began to chew furiously. Ugh, the rags tasted nasty. Luckily, they were also old and tattered, no match for the teeth of a kid who drank a whole glass of milk every day, so he was ungagged in no time.

He had just started gnawing on the ropes around his wrist when he saw two small hands wrap around the bars on the window of his cell door, and a rather familiar head of blond hair suddenly popped into view.

It was the boy in class who had recognized the genjutsu. He peered into the cell for a moment before his face lit up with recognition.

"Hello! Akimichi right?"

Saburou nodded dumbly.

"Are you hurt?"

Saburou shook his head before finally remembering that he wasn't gagged anymore and said, "No, I'm okay. Just, yanno. Tied up in a cell."

The boy's nodded understandingly and said, "Let's get you out of there then."

 _(Tutorial: [Lockpicking] To pick locks, use a lock pick item on the lock. The time required to succeed depends on your skill in Lockpicking._ )

He disappeared back out of sight, but there were a few jangling and scraping noises before Saburou heard the wonderful sound of a bolt sliding free ( _Skill EXP gained: Lockpicking + 5.00%)_. The door cracked open with a soft creak, and his blonde classmate slipped through the gap without a sound.

 _(Tutorial: [Rescue] Attempt to free a captured ally by pressing Y while in close proximity. The success rate depends on the skill corresponding to how your ally is incapacitated._ )

He knelt in front of Saburou, tugging at the exact right spots on the knots to make them come loose in a matter of seconds. It was almost as if Saburou had never been tied very tightly at all. ( _Skill EXP gained: Rope-work + 5.00%_ )

( _Quest Updated! Allies Rescued [1/10]!_ )

Once he was free, Saburou murmured, "Thanks, um..."

"Namikaze," the boy answered, "But you can call me Minato." He led Saburou down a hallway to the right, then left, then another left, then right again. Then he pointed down the corridor and said, "I took out the guards at the exit, and I don't think they've respawned yet. If you keep going straight, you should be able to get out without running into anyone."

Saburou took two steps down the hall before realizing that Namikaze hadn't followed. In fact, his classmate had turned around and started jogging the opposite way.

"Wait, where are you going?" he hissed, not at all partial to the idea of braving the dark passageway alone.

Namikaze blinked, then said matter-of-factly, "To find the rest of our class."

"What? You don't-!" Except, Namikaze had already proved he _did_ , or Saburou would still be trapped in that tiny cell. An ugly prickle of shame crawled up out of his gut and choked the words in his throat. He hadn't even considered the possibility saving his classmates. A real ninja would never abandon his comrades. And an Akimichi was born with a big body so that he could shield more of his friends, not so that he could run away when they needed him.

So instead, Saburou found these words tumbling out of mouth instead, "-think I'd leave a flaky looking guy like you to do all the hard work, do you? I-I'm coming with you!"

Namikaze looked so surprised that Saburou could've punched him. _Would've_ punched him, if Namikaze's gaze hadn't suddenly gone cold and sharp like a sword piercing the darkness ( _Observe: Akimichi Saburou LVL 3 HP 350/350_ ), but the steel gleam in his eyes faded back into the softer blue of a summer sky so quickly that Saburou wondered if it hadn't just been a trick of the light.

"You're right," Namikaze said with a soft laugh, "This was never meant to be a solo mission."

He held out his hand towards Saburou, and when Saburou grasped it, he could almost feel a ripple of strength and courage surge up his arm, filling his heart to the brim. It felt like he could do anything, conquer any foe, and come out stronger no matter what obstacles he faced. Saburou could almost swear he heard an odd chime in the back of his mind, as if fate had struck a chord. Huh. Weird. Maybe this was what the teacher had meant by the Will of Fire?

( _You have formed a new party!)_  
(Akimichi Saburou has joined your party!)  
_(Gained: 'Will of Fire' Buff! +10% Willpower, +10% Willpower Regen)_

Namikaze just smiled knowingly and said, "Sensei did say that teammates are what make us truly great shinobi."

. . .

Saburou had wondered where Namikaze found a lock pick, but that question quickly answered itself.

The answer was that Namikaze was completely _insane_ and insisted on going into every single room and opening every single container while they were trying to _escape an enemy stronghold_. He would then pocket everything he found, no matter how useless it seemed, and somehow, his pockets never seemed to run out of space. So far, the collection included – but was not limited to – a rusty kunai, several shuriken, a spool of ninja wire, a bottle of suspicious pills, eight tattered rags, a blank scroll, a wooden flute, and a small action figure of the First Hokage.

Saburou would have protested, but by some kind of freak chance, the items Namikaze found became immediately useful in ways that Namikaze couldn't _possibly_ have foreseen almost right after he found said items.

They found the flute and tattered rags, then ran across a classmate who had gotten free from his own ropes, but managed to sprain his ankle in an ill-fated attempt to break down his cell door. ( _Tutorial: [First Aid] Administer first aid to a fallen ally by pressing A in close proximity. The success rate will depend on your skill in iryo-jutsu and the quality of the medical supplies in your inventory_.) Namikaze promptly turned the flute and rags into a makeshift splint so that the boy could limp along with them. ( _Skill EXP gained: First Aid + 5.00%_ )

( _Quest updated! Allies Rescued [2/10]!_ )

They found a rusty kunai inside a rotting wooden box, and the next classmate they came across was a girl who had gotten free from her cell, but had immediately run into a rope trap that dangled her from the ceiling. ( _Tutorial: [Traps] Observe will alert you to the presence of traps, however, the Traps skill is required to identify the type of trap and to disarm it._ ) Namikaze had cut her free with the rusty kunai ( _Skill EXP gained: Traps + 5.00%_ ) and insisted on collecting the severed ropes from the trap along with him. He then tied those ropes back together to help the next wayward classmate they found climb out of a pit-trap. ( _Skill EXP gained: Survival + 5.00%_ )

( _Quest updated! Allies Rescued [3/10]!_ )  
( _Quest updated! Allies Rescued [4/10]!_ )

Either Namikaze was the luckiest bastard in Fire Country, or he had some ridiculous bloodline limit that let him predict the immediate future.

At least Saburou got to watch his classmates undergo to same stages of bewilderment, outrage, and resignation at Namikaze's methods that Saburou had already undergone.

( _Quest updated! Allies Rescued [5/10]!_ )  
( _Quest updated! Allies Rescued [6/10]!_ )  
( _Quest updated! Allies Rescued [7/10]!_ )  
( _Quest updated! Allies Rescued [8/10]!_ )  
( _Quest updated! Allies Rescued [9/10]!_ )

Unfortunately, the more classmates they rescued, the more obvious the glaring flaw in their escape plan became.

One small, scrawny six-year-old could easily sneak down a dark hallway without much trouble. Two six-year-olds together would have a slightly harder time, especially when the second was an Akimichi, but it was still doable as long as they were careful.

An entire herd of sniffling, shuffling, whispering six-year-olds, however, was about as sneaky as a drunk elephant.

Their escape screeched to a stuttering halt when the corridor they were sneaking down intersected another corridor that was patrolled by a masked guard. A single kid might have been able to dart across into the shadows before the guard noticed, but with nine of them? They had no chance.

' _What do we do?'_ Saburou mouthed, glancing at their fearless leader.

( _Tutorial: [Stealth] Attacking from stealth allows you to make an instant kill, bypassing the opponent's defense and armor. The chance of being detected depends on your stealth skill and the amount of time you spend in the opponent's proximity._ )

That was when Namikaze's eyes turned kind of terrifying.

They had that cold, steely gleam to them again; it hadn't been a trick of the light after all. Namikaze motioned for everyone to stay in the shadows, and before anyone else could get a word in edgewise, he disappeared in a blur of yellow. One moment, he was next to Saburou, and the next, he was on braced against the guard's shoulders, viciously twisting the guard's head to one side.

The sharp ' _snap!_ ' echoed down the silent corridor.

Then the guard disappeared in a puff of smoke ( _EXP gained: +8.25%! Skill EXP gained: Stealth + 5.00%_ ) and Namikaze landed lightly on his feet, dusting himself off and none the worse for the wear.

"Everyone okay?" he asked, turning back towards them with bright, summer blue eyes again.

There was a beat before he received a chorus of mute nods.

No one felt like whispering after that. It certainly helped their stealth, albeit not their morale. Something about what had just happened was vaguely unsettling, the same unsettled feeling Saburou got when he ate something that had expired two weeks ago but still tasted fine. He couldn't help but feel kind of wary about Namikaze, which made no sense at all, because Namikaze done what a real ninja would do. He took initiative. He didn't hesitate. He protected his comrades.

And yet, Saburou still found himself jogging up to Namikaze and lowering his voice so he wouldn't be overheard by the others.

"Back there...how did you know it was a clone?"

Namikaze smiled, but Saburou was gradually realizing that while Namikaze's smiles were reassuring, they didn't actually mean anything. He seemed to smile out of habit, like breathing. It had nothing to do with whether or not he was happy.

"It just made sense," Namikaze answered simply.

Which wasn't really an answer at all, but the dry sound of a snapping neck was still fresh in Saburou's memory, so he dropped the subject. He hadn't really wanted to know the answer anyway.

They walked the rest of the way in silence.

. . .

There were three more guards after that, but Namikaze didn't take them down quite as viciously as the first, even if he still moved so fast that the next two guards were already puffs of smoke by the time the rest of them realized there had _been_ a guard. One got a shuriken to the throat. The other had the ignominious fate of being shoved into the path of a falling log trap.

The last guard was the only one they had actually fought, and luckily, one clone was no match for an entire swarm of kicking, scratching, biting six-year-olds.

Unfortunately, the last guard had been in the last room before they reached the same corridor that Saburou's cell had been in, which meant they had circled through the almost the entire dungeon and they were still missing one classmate.

"Maybe he already got out," Saburou suggested hopefully. It wasn't impossible. Shimura Naoki would probably be Rookie of the Year if a freak anomaly like Namikaze Minato hadn't come out of nowhere.

Yeah right, who was he kidding? Saburou didn't even believe the words coming out of his own mouth.

Because there was still at least one place they hadn't checked, and it was blocked off by a scary-huge door with an even scarier looking seal plastered across the seam where it was supposed to open. It had been the only room Namikaze skipped in his obsessive-compulsive search through the place, but no one had pointed it out because no one wanted to encourage him to open that particular door.

They stood in front of that door now, and Namikaze was frowning as he placed one hand against it. Saburou gulped. Namikaze hadn't frowned even once throughout this entire ordeal. He was all reassuring smiles and calm directions. Anything bad enough to make Namikaze Minato frown was bad enough to make Akimichi Saburou run screaming for the hills.

( _Boss Encounter: Shadow Dance_ )  
( _[Restricted Status: Solo] - You cannot proceed in a party._ )

"Saburou," Namikaze said quietly, "do you remember where the exit is?"

Wait, he couldn't be suggesting what Saburou thought he was suggesting, could he? Bristling angrily, Saburou began, "If you think I'm gonna bail out now of all times-!"

"Get everyone else out. Then go get help," Namikaze ordered, in the same harsh voice Uncle Torifu used whenever something serious and scary was happening to the clan. But Namikaze took it one step further, because he placed a hand on Saburou's shoulder and finished with a quiet, "I'm counting on you."

How do you argue with that, dammit?

Saburou swallowed down the lump in his throat and lightly punched Namikaze in shoulder. His voice came out shakier than he meant for it to be, but he still managed to growl, "Don't mess up, okay? If you flake out before I get back, or I'll kick your ass after I kick theirs."

Namikaze smiled another one of his meaningless, reassuring smiles and gave a single, determined nod.

"Go."

( _Your party has been disbanded!_ )  
( _'Will of Fire' Buff has been removed._ )

Saburou furiously rubbed the wet blurriness out of his eyes, shoved aside the sinking feeling that he was losing something important, and ran for the exit, leaving his friend behind.

. . .

He ran faster than he had ever run in his life. It didn't matter if he had to carry someone with a twisted ankle on his back, it didn't matter that he was tired and scared, it didn't matter if he was hungrier than he could ever remember being in his life – a friend was counting on him, and the Akimichi didn't let their friends down.

He'd been trapped in this dark dungeon for so long that it took him a moment to realize what the sudden blinding whiteness was when he finally burst out of the exit and into the bright noonday sun.

It took him a few more moments of furious blinking before he could make out the blurry shapes in front of him.

"Sensei!" he blurted out, nearly falling over with relief. "Namikaze – Shimura – he went – we have to go back!"

"Take it easy, Akimichi," Sensei said, kneeling to help steady him. "You did well. You passed the test. None of you were ever in any danger."

Saburou's whirling panic screeched to a dead halt. Finally stopping to glance around, he noticed the other Academy teachers standing around, wearing the same uniforms that the dungeon guards had been wearing. The masked ANBU was there as well. The familiar rooftops of the village stretched below them – the entire dungeon had been nestled in the same cliffs that the Hokage monument had been carved into.

"But...what..." Saburou stammered for a moment, before several things that didn't make sense before finally clicked into place, "...he _knew._ "

No wonder Namikaze had been so calm. No wonder he found all the stuff they needed before they actually needed it. The teachers must have set it up that way – that son of a bitch had known the entire time!

Saburou took a step back towards the dungeon exit, growling, "I'm going to _strangle_ him."

His teacher caught him by the collar.

A different teacher laughed and said, "Don't be too angry with your friend. I don't know when he figured it out, but he didn't want to ruin the exercise for the rest of you. You learned a lot, didn't you?"

Grudgingly, Saburou admitted that he had.

Even so, when Namikaze had finally appeared from the exit, smeared with dirt and helping Shimura limp along, Saburou still walked up to him and punched him right in the face as hard as possible. It was immensely satisfying, knocking the blonde flat on his ass.

"You," Saburou muttered, "are an _asshole."_ Then he held out a hand to help Namikaze back up, grudgingly adding, "But you're also pretty cool and I owe you one, so...friends?"

Cheek swollen and blue eyes staring up into blue sky, Namikaze - no, Minato - had grinned. Not one of those empty reassuring smiles, but a lopsided, sheepish, and _happy_ grin, as he clasped Saburou's hand tightly, and all that fiery strength seemed to rush back up his arm like it had never left.

"Yeah. Friends," Minato said.

Then he closed his eyes and laughed, a sound so bright and clear that Saburou couldn't help but laugh too.

( _Quest Complete! Allies Rescued [10/10]! EXP +22.75%!)_  
( _Tutorial Dungeon Cleared [Rank: SSS]! EXP + 143.50%! +100 Reputation with Konoha Academy!)_  
( _-Ding- Level Up! You are now Level 7! +5 Attribute Points!_ )  
( _-Ding- Level Up! You are now Level 8! +5 Attribute Points!_ )  
( _Class Acquired: Academy Student!_ )  
( _Achievement Unlocked: Untouchable – Complete an instance without taking any damage._ )  
( _New Quest! The Mysterious Transfer Student!_ )  
( _New Quest! The Road to Genin!_ )  
( _New Class Unlocked: Genin!_ )  
( _Now Loading..._ )

. . .

"We've got a good batch this year, huh?" Shiranui Genta hummed as he leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on top of the table in the teacher's lounge.

Matou Yabuki made a noncommittal 'hm' and didn't peel his eyes away from the small television replaying the recordings from the pseudo-dungeon they had set up for the newest group of Academy students.

Nohara Rika looked up from the reports she was browsing for a moment and said, "They're certainly much better at teamwork than last year's graduating class."

Genta snorted, "That's because all the big clans always try to get their heirs into the same class. With that much ego crammed into one class? I'm surprised they all graduated without killing each other."

"The Yamanaka and Akimichi heirs seemed to get along. Nara too," Yabuki murmured, still glued to the television.

"Bah, it's just clan politics, that's all," Genta waved it off.

"Still, it's impressive that this year's class managed to actually clear the exercise," Rika politely turned the conversation back towards the topic at hand before it could spiral into an argument about politics. "It's a mostly civilian class, isn't it? Akimichi and Shimura are the only clan children, and even then, they're both from minor branches."

"Akimichi did his clan proud," Yabuki said succinctly.

Genta couldn't help but agree, "A stout heart on stout body, that one. Stuck it out through the whole dungeon, and carried one of his classmates out to boot."

"Shimura performed admirably as well," Rika said, "He was the first out of his cell and showed remarkable mental strength despite tackling the exercise almost entirely alone. His basic skills are certainly a cut above all the rest."

"Not all of them," Yabuki muttered.

All three Academy teachers paused to watch the television for a moment. It was the second time they were watching it – the first time through, they had been a little too surprised to analyze it for what it was. The final room was actually a repurposed training room with a seal on the ground that would generate a shadow clone of anyone who passed through the door. Experienced shinobi sparred against themselves to iron out their own weaknesses, but it served as a good lesson for Academy students too. The younger and less experienced you were, the harder it was to overcome yourself. Shimura Naoki had certainly learned that the hard way.

Namikaze Minato fighting his own shadow, however, was something else entirely.

It wasn't technically that impressive. There were other students that had been faster, other students that had known more techniques, and other students who had better taijutsu skills – albeit not by much, and never all three at once.

What made Namikaze Minato incredible, however, was his _control._ He seemed to know exactly what his body was capable of and exploited it to the absolute limit. He was constantly in motion. No pauses to find his balance or reposition around his opponent. His attacks were viciously efficient in a way that took most shinobi a lifetime of near-death experiences to learn. Every blow was aimed to kill or cripple.

And his reaction speed was _unreal_. Namikaze Minato's mind was clearly responding at a minimum of mid-Chuunin levels, even if his body couldn't keep up. Yet.

"Should we graduate him now, or send him to Torture and Intelligence for impersonating an Academy student?" Rika asked in a completely serious tone.

"He's not an infiltrator," Yabuki said bluntly, "unless he became one at eighteen months old."

The small blonde on the television screen finally dispatched his own shadow double with rusty kunai through the eye. No hesitation, not even when driving a sharp piece of metal through a reflection of his own face.

Genta let out a low whistle.

"He's going to be a _monster_ when he's grown."

Rika made a soft sound of agreement.

Yabuki mutely picked up the remote, rewound the tape, and played it from the beginning once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Urgh, so this chapter was originally supposed to be half the length it currently is, because I originally wrote it entirely from point of view of the Academy teachers. It also covered Minato's entire Academy career up until the point where Kushina showed up.
> 
> Except I wanted to add some details about the Academy's hazing ritual from Saburou's point of view, and it kind of spiraled out of control. So. Uh. Sorry. No Kushina yet, or any other canon characters, but I promise they're coming!
> 
> Saburou's name is shamelessly copied from Minato's teammate in 'The Girl from Whirlpool', by the way. I'm headcanoning that the rather pudgy teammate in the Team Jiraiya picture is an Akimichi named Saburou.
> 
> If you couldn't tell from the numerous mistakes liberally sprinkled throughout this chapter, I'm still in dire need of a beta reader.


	3. Paragon, Renegade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which several people make hilariously wrong assumptions about Namikaze Minato's moral alignment.

His father said the Academy was for losers.

Well, alright, that wasn't exactly what his father had said, but Shimura Naoki had picked up the gist of it.

Apparently, a bunch of civilians had nagged and nagged until the village finally gave in and set up a school so that every kid would have a fair chance at becoming awesome shinobi. Graduation would be based on standardized tests, jounin teams would be assigned in a balanced manner, and if an oddly high proportion of the civilian kids ended up flunking out, well, that was just because they didn't have the talent for it.

Haha, what a load of bull. Naoki could see right past the fancy politics and grasp the truth underneath the underneath.

As if a civilian had any idea what 'fair' meant to a _true_ shinobi. Any idiot with a brain should have realized that no one would ever teach any truly valuable skills to anyone outside their clan. Even the Academy jutsu were all half-assed techniques that were only good for playing pranks or running away: henge was the poor man's version of a true genjutsu, kawarimi was for scrubs who weren't fast enough to shunshin, and the Academy clone was useless compared to literally any of the solid, elemental versions.

The Academy only served up half-baked imitations of true ninja techniques, smothered in a hefty dollop of propaganda. Worse, it meant that all the clan kids like Naoki who already had families to teach them the true ways of the shinobi would have to waste entire _years_ of their lives just to keep the civilians happy. Worst of all, some of them actually started believing the bullshit the Academy taught them!

It was a good thing Naoki was a Shimura, and his clan didn't stand for any of that nonsense.

No matter how the Academy prattled on about the Will of Fire, the naked truth was that shinobi were weapons. Anything else was just a polite fiction to make the ignorant masses feel better. Shimura Naoki wouldn't let himself be fooled. He would become a true shinobi, like Danzo-sama, strong enough to walk in the shadows without ever craving the illusion of light.

Really, the Academy was just a chore that Naoki wanted to be over and done with so he could get to the cool part of becoming a _true_ shinobi. It had nothing to offer him. All his classmates were brainwashed idiots.

And yet-

And yet--!

( _-Ding- Duel Complete! You have defeated Shimura Naoki (LVL 10)! +10 Reputation with Konoha Academy!)_

And yet, contrary to everything Naoki knew to be true, Namikaze Minato stubbornly existed.

Namikaze Minato, a clan-less civilian orphan with no shinobi background whatsoever, had beaten him in every single spar over the past eighteen months.

It would have been easier to accept if Namikaze Minato had at least some semblance of shinobi pride. But no, this was Namikaze Minato, who dutifully swallowed and regurgitated all the idealistic crap that the Academy spoon fed them. Namikaze Minato, who wound up doing all the class chores because he was too spineless to turn down anyone who asked him for help. Namikaze Minato, who was always smiling like an idiot and making friends with everyone, which made Naoki wonder why the hell the dumb blonde even decided to become a shinobi in the first place.

"Thank you for the match," said Namikaze Minato, who had the gall to look apologetic for doing what he was supposed to do and beating a weaker opponent. He didn't have a single scratch on him. Worse, he stretched out his hand to help his opponent back up because he was pointlessly nice.

"Thank you for the match," Naoki echoed flatly, accepting the offered hand because it would have been childish to slap it away. It was only an Academy spar, and he could hardly call himself a shinobi if he got angry over such a trivial little thing.

Their taijutsu instructor jotted a few final notes into his logbook before snapping it shut and announcing, "And that's it for the day. Get outta here, brats."

Naoki quickly stepped out of the sparring ring, and just in time too, because his classmates immediately swarmed into the ring to surround Namikaze. This was followed by a cacophony of requests like 'Minato-kun, could you help me with the infiltration and disguise assignment? ( _New Quest! Survive Yako's Super Glitter Magical Girl Make-Over! Accept/Cancel_ )', 'Um, w-we should probably clean up the training field f-first! _(New Quest! Harvest the Free Shuriken Left on the Training Field! Accept/Cancel)_ ', and 'Screw that, teach us that kickass explosion jutsu you used, Namikaze! ( _New Quest! Sow the Seeds of Mayhem and Disaster! Accept/Cancel)_ '. Of course, Namikaze, being a complete pushover, just let them drag him off with barely a token protest ( _ **ACCEPT**_ _/Cancel_ ) ( _ **ACCEPT**_ _/Cancel_ ) ( _ **ACCEPT**_ _/Cancel_ ).

Naoki just rolled his eyes and trudged towards the training fields.

Every minute that Namikaze wasted was a minute Naoki could use to close the gap. It might not be today, it might not even be tomorrow, but one day, for sure, Naoki would make sure Namikaze Minato regretted it.

. . .

"That'll be 200 ryo," growled the grizzled old shopkeeper, who didn't even bother to take the cigarette out of his mouth or to look up from the magazine he was reading.

Naoki bit back a string of swearwords. 200 ryo for a roll of bandages? That was an entire month's allowance. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he could just hide his hands in his pockets until he got back to his own room, but glumly realized that there was no way his mother wouldn't notice the stray cuts when he came down for dinner. He was already going to catch hell for injuring himself; he didn't want to imagine what she'd do if she found out that he skipped proper first aid too.

The only other option was to drop by the hospital and explain to a medic that he had been stupid enough to ricochet one of his own shuriken at his own face. Between facing his mother and facing a frazzled, over-worked medic, Naoki was at least reasonably sure his mother wouldn't just murder him out of frustration.

Resigned, Naoki opened his wallet and started counting out the amount due. Just as he was about to place the money on the shop counter, however, the bell on the shop's door rang as another customer entered.

The shopkeeper glanced up from his magazine briefly, and the corners of his lips actually twitched upwards for a brief moment before settling back into a permanent frown.

"Back again, brat?" he drawled.

"Sorry for disturbing you so late, Nakamura-san," said an all too familiar voice. With a faint feeling of dread, Naoki glanced over his shoulder, and sure enough, there stood Namikaze Minato, inclining his head politely as he ducked inside. When he caught sight of Naoki, his entire countenance brightened, and he added, "Good evening to you too, Shimura-kun."

Naoki simply deadpanned, "Namikaze."

The blonde didn't seem offended by the curt response, however, because he smiled warmly before heading over to the stationary aisle. Then, he systematically gathered every single piece of sealing paper into a single stack, which he brought over to the counter, completely ignoring the fact that Naoki was in the middle of making a purchase. The shopkeeper looked on with an annoyed sort of fondness as he muttered, "We just got more this morning and you're already clearing the shelves. How many seals could you possibly need?"

"Not that many more. I'm almost done grinding level 10 Intermediate Fuinjutsu to unlock paperless seals," Namikaze said sheepishly, as if what he said made any actual sense.

The shopkeeper seemed used to Namikaze's nonsense, however, because he just shrugged and did a quick count of the sheets of sealing paper before saying, "That'll be 55,000 ryo."

Naoki boggled as Namikaze forked over the ridiculous amount of money. ( _Items Lost: -55000g! Items Gained: Blank Sealing Tags (x200)!_ ) That was the pay for over a dozen D-rank missions! Most chuunin didn't even earn that much in a month! Wasn't Namikaze an orphan? Where on earth was he getting that kind of cash?

That question quickly answered itself, however, because Namikaze pulled a sealing scroll out of his pocket and said, "I'd like to sell this too."

' _That's not how shops work, idiot,'_ Naoki wanted to say, but before he could, the old shopkeeper nodded and said, "What've you got this time?"

"Mostly just vendor trash, but I've got some old equipment that I don't need any more as well," Namikaze said, unsealing the scroll.

Immediately, the counter was swallowed up in a mountain of...of what could only be described as _garbage_. Naoki backpedaled just in time to avoid being swallowed by the cascade. There were bits of scrap metal, various animal parts, pieces of broken wood, scraps of cloth, dried plants, empty bottles, and many, many more assorted pieces of junk that Naoki didn't recognize.

Hidden behind the pile, the shopkeeper's muffled voice said, "I'll give you 9023 ryo for the lot of it."

Namikaze – who was buried so deeply in the pile that only the tips of his bright blonde hair were still visible – somehow sealed all the junk back into the scroll and handed it to the shopkeeper, who traded it for the promised amount of money.

( _Items Lost: Diseased Rat Liver (x28), Twisted Metal Scrap (x31), Small Animal Bone (x112), Large Animal Bone (x19), Tattered Cloth (x6), Broken Branches (x11), River Reeds (x72), Leaky Bottles (x12), Poor Quality Mesh Shirt (x1), Poor Quality Cotton Pants (x1), Worn Leather Sandals (x1)! Items Gained: +9023g!_ )

Somewhere in the exchange, all of the sealing paper had disappeared off the counter as well. Namikaze bowed low towards the shopkeeper in gratitude, then gave Naoki a cheerful wave goodbye before heading back out of the store, leaving no sign that he had ever been there save for the suddenly bare fuinjutsu shelves.

It took Naoki's mind a few tries before it managed to shake off disbelief and resuscitate his common sense.

"Why...why would you buy...?" Naoki trailed off, settling for a frustrated sweep of his arms as he tried and failed to find an adequate word to describe all of the random things that Namikaze had just successfully sold to a store that didn't buy things in the first place.

The shopkeeper settled back in his chair and took a long, slow drag off his cigarette. Then he leaned back in his chair and sighed through a mouthful of smoke, "Long story. One I ain't got the patience to tell, kid." He fixed Naoki with a stern, beady eye and growled, "Now do you want the damn bandages or not?"

Giving it up as a lost cause, Naoki paid for the stupid bandages and went home.

. . .

Of course, on the one day he got home later than usual, Naoki was greeted with his mother already waiting outside the door, her face fixed in a carefully bland smile while her eyes blazed with a dire promise of a harsh punishment later. Naoki didn't need his shinobi training to read her expression, because he had seen that look all too many times already.

It meant that she was super angry, but was hiding it because they had guests over.

"I was beginning to worry you had gotten lost," his mother said evenly, but when she grabbed hold of him to lead him around to the back the house, her fingers dug into his arm like a vice. Naoki carefully fought down a wince of pain and calmly observed that, for some unknown reason, _he_ was one she was angry at.

They hurried through the backyard and avoided the main foyer on their way up to Naoki's room. The shoji doors were shut, but Naoki could vaguely make out several silhouettes and hear the low tones of his father speaking with an unfamiliar guest as they passed by. A formal kimono was already laid out on his bed when Naoki got to his room.

So their guest was someone really important then, and had already arrived while Naoki was wasting time with Namikaze's shenanigans. No wonder his mother was so angry.

Thankfully, she didn't have time to berate him as she swiftly cleaned him up and helped him change into his clothes. She clicked her tongue in annoyance when she saw the bandages around his hands, but he had bound the injury as neatly as possible, so nothing more could be done.

Giving Naoki a final once-over, his mother decided that he passed muster and herded him to the downstairs sitting room.

"A thousand apologies for the delay," his mother said as she slid open the shoji doors and bowed deeply towards their guest. Stepping to one side, she said, "My eldest, Naoki, has finally deigned to join us." She didn't even try to hide the stab of disapproval in her voice.

Naoki stepped forward with his head lowered and got down on his knees to perform a formal, kneeling bow as he said, "Please forgive my rudeness." When he looked up, however, he barely managed to keep himself from inhaling sharply in surprise.

Seated across from his father was none other than the clan head, Danzo-sama himself. Clad all in black, his dark eyes, dark hair, and numerous battle scars gave him an aura of intimidation, even seated as casually as he was. When the man's eyes came to rest on him, Naoki could almost feel a sense of heaviness settle over his shoulders, as if he was pinned under the paw of some great creature who could crush him with a thought.

He gulped and put on what he hoped was a suitably respectful expression.

There was a tense pause as Danzo brought the teacup to his lips, drank, and set it back down again. All while his gaze remained fixed on Naoki. Then, at last, he said, "You have much reason to be proud."

"Not at all. He is lacking in many places," his father said modestly, but there was still a sting of truth in those words as his father's eyes briefly flickered over towards him.

"He is still uniquely suited to the task at hand," said Danzo.

His father, for the first time in Naoki's memory, seemed to hesitate. Naoki caught the faint whitening of his father's knuckles as his hands tightened into fists, and there was a noticeable strain in his father's voice as he finally bowed his head and said, "...then we are honored to place him in your service, Danzo-sama."

His father then stood, and to Naoki's surprise, walked towards the door. He paused to lay his hand on Naoki's shoulder and squeeze, but whether he meant it as a warning or as reassurance, Naoki couldn't tell.

There was the sound of the shoji doors sliding shut behind him, then, rather suddenly, Naoki found himself alone.

"Come. Sit," Danzo said with simple gesture of his arm that carried all the force of a command.

Naoki stiffly obeyed. His mind was reeling with questions, but he dared not speak them aloud as Danzo went through the quick, efficient motions of pouring him a cup of tea. The room was so quiet that Naoki was sure that everyone present could hear his heartbeat accelerating.

"I hear that your scores at the Academy are exemplary," Danzo began, "and that you excel in every shinobi art."

Naoki inwardly prayed that his voice held steady. He said, "I have good teachers."

"Indeed. But it is not the Academy teachers you speak of." Danzo said.

Naoki froze for a moment, but Danzo held up a hand, saying, "You may speak freely. I do not agree with many of Hiruzen's policies, and the Academy is one we have argued over since the beginning. Tell me, have you learned anything of value there?"

"I...no," Naoki glumly confessed. "It's a waste of time."

"So I thought." Danzo took another drink of tea. "The Academy teaches the Will of Fire, but it does not teach that every flame casts an equal shadow. You cannot have one without the other. Shinobi are the same. We may all be part of the great tree, but while some are made to be the leaves under the sun, others are made to be the roots in the dark."

He fixed Naoki with a piercing look that cut right down to the quick.

"So tell me, what kind of shinobi were you made to be, Shimura Naoki?"

Naoki's mouth had gone completely dry. His heart was a racing drumbeat. It seemed like every hair was standing on end.

Even so, he bowed his head and said, "You already know, Danzo-sama."

There was a clatter. Naoki looked up to see that Danzo had thrown a white porcelain mask onto the table. It looked like an ANBU mask, but it was shaped like no particular animal and had no markings whatsoever. Just two dark eye-holes staring back up at him. Naoki didn't dare to reach for it, not when ANBU masks were an honor reserved for only the most loyal, the most skilled, and the most esteemed shinobi in the entire village.

So Danzo pushed it towards him instead.

"It is yours to take," the man said, "If you choose to don it, then from this day forth, you will have two faces. Under the light, you will be Shimura Naoki. But in the darkness, your true face shall be the face of Konoha's ROOT, Hanoe."

Naoki picked up the mask and felt a chill run through him. This. This was his path to becoming a true shinobi, to becoming someone like Danzo-sama. He carefully turned it over in his hands, running his fingers along the subtle curves, and when he looked back up, Danzo was smiling faintly, with a glimmer of acknowledgement in his eye.

"Good," Danzo said curtly, "because I have a mission for you, Hanoe."

Naoki tried not to burst with pride. He shifted, changing from the formal seiza position he had been sitting in to the half-kneeling pose of a shinobi reporting for duty. It had the side benefit of hiding his rather un-shinobi-like grin too.

"Yes, sir!" he said, trying to sound calm and professional despite the thrill of excitement humming in his veins. This was really happening. He was really getting his very first mission from Danzo himself.

"It is an observation mission. A certain individual is suspected of traitorous behavior. You are to ascertain the truth without arousing suspicion," Danzo said.

Danzo finished, "Your target is Namikaze Minato."

' _What_?' Naoki thought.

"What?" Naoki blurted out loud, because his train of thought had just chugged off a mental cliff and sailed right out of his mouth.

Namikaze Minato was suspected of traitorous behavior? _Namikaze_ _Minato_?! Naoki tried to imagine the happy-go-lucky blonde as a dastardly spy and drew a complete blank. No matter how talented, Namikaze was still an Academy student, just like him. Granted, Naoki had just been recruited for a secret organization that protected Konoha from the shadows, so that might not be the best comparison, but still. No infiltrator would waste their time letting the girls from his class plaster his face with makeup so that they could get 'practice' before trying it on themselves.

What could possibly have made Danzo think such a ridiculous–-

\- no. Wait.

There had to be something more to it. A true shinobi must look underneath the underneath. Which was more reasonable? Namikaze Minato being a traitor, or Danzo being mistaken?

The answer was that both were unreasonable.

' _This is a test,_ ' Naoki realized.

Danzo already knew everything about him. The man could see right through Naoki from the very beginning. Of course, this mission had nothing to do with Namikaze Minato, not really. It was about Naoki, about whether he could follow orders even when they seemed absurd and keep his own personal feelings from affecting his mission performance. It was a baited trap, and if he let his personal distaste for Namikaze to bias his report, then Naoki would fail. A true shinobi didn't question their orders. A true shinobi eliminated their own ego.

The dawning realization must have been written all over Naoki's face, because Danzo gave a curt nod and said, "I see you understand quickly."

Naoki steeled himself and declared, "I will not fail, Danzo-sama."

He would become a true shinobi in every way.

. . .

There was, however, one minor complication that ROOT Operative Hanoe overlooked.

Following Namikaze Minato was the most haphazard, aggravating, and bewildering task Hanoe had ever undertaken.

Left to his own devices, Namikaze bounced all over Konoha like a deranged rabbit, juggling so many favors, errands, and messages that it made Hanoe's head spin. One moment, he was helping a civilian kid find her lost cat, and the next, he was pulling weeds from a lady's flowerbed. He would wander off into the surrounding forests to collect acorns. He would disappear into the sewers to hunt rats. There was no rhyme or reason to the bizarre behavior, no pattern to the people he helped, and no apparent motivation other than an obsession to help as many people as possible in the least amount of time.

Hanoe realized with growing horror that the reason everyone in Konoha was talking about Namikaze wasn't because they were enamored with their newest prodigy. It was because Namikaze was literally _everywhere_ , talking to _everyone_.

It was a miracle that Konoha's genin teams had any D-rank missions left.

Namikaze managed to throw Hanoe off his trail three days in a row without even realizing that he was being followed. At this rate, Hanoe's forehead was going to have a permanent bruise from where he was repeatedly banging it against a wall.

Was this...was this really how Namikaze spent all of his time? Running petty errands for people who didn't even matter? All while Hanoe trained his ass off and still couldn't put a single scratch on him? Hanoe had always believed that geniuses were geniuses because they worked harder than anyone, but if Namikaze had been slacking off this entire time...

Hanoe realized he was audibly grinding his teeth and immediately stopped.

Never mind, these thoughts were useless. He had a mission, and he was resolved to see it through no matter what. He would follow Namikaze to the end this time. He had brought a soldier pill. He had brought multiple disguises. He had left behind his useless notions of propriety. If Namikaze wanted to brazenly wander onto private property, then Hanoe would brazenly follow.

It took seven hours, seven goddamn hours, before Namikaze called off his daily errand blitz. By then, night had long since fallen and the streets of Konoha were nearly empty. Hanoe was already dead on his feet. He was just waiting for Namikaze to go home and call it a day so that he could do the same.

Instead, to Hanoe's dismay, Namikaze sat down on a park bench under a particularly bright street lamp and took out a stack of sealing paper, a calligraphy brush, and an ink stone.

He started making some kind of sealing tag. From his concealed perch in a nearby tree, Hanoe couldn't make out what the seals were, but he could tell that every single one was the exact same. Namikaze churned them out at a blinding pace. His motions were mindlessly repetitive and eerily perfect, as if an Uchiha had copied the motions and was reenacting them over and over again with perfect fidelity.

Even so, it became completely mind-numbing to watch after the first fifteen minutes. Hanoe nearly fell out of the tree several times as his heavy eyes fought to stay open. Did Namikaze not feel the need to sleep? The Academy had started at seven in the morning, and it was almost midnight by now. Hanoe's own bedtime had come and gone three hours ago.

Tag after tag, the stack of unused sealing papers diminished as the pile of completed tags grew. After what felt like an eternity, Namikaze finally put the finishing strokes on the last page.

( _Crafting Complete! Items Lost: Blank Sealing Tags (x200), Chakra Ink (x20)! Items Gained: LVL 3 Exploding Tags (x200)!_ )

Hanoe barely made it down the tree in time to follow Namikaze out of the park. He was so tired that he could barely put one foot in front of the other in a straight line. Thank god Namikaze's hair was so bright; it was easy to follow him through the streets as it got darker the further from the residential district they went.

Wait, something was wrong here. Hanoe's tired brain sparked back to life. Why were they _leaving_ the residential area? And heading towards the training fields?! Hanoe's feeling of dread only grew as they passed by all the normal training fields and headed towards the heavily fenced off area where all the specialized training fields were.

' _You've got to be kidding me,_ ' Hanoe thought as Namikaze led them to a specific training ground that Hanoe had heard plenty of stories about, but never, ever wanted to enter.

Training Ground 44. Also known as the Forest of Death.

Namikaze Minato was climbing the fence.

' _Yeah, there's no way I'm following him in there_ ,' Hanoe thought to himself, ' _Just, nope. Nope, nope, so much nope._ '

If Namikaze wanted to get himself killed, that was his prerogative.

ROOT Operative Hanoe, or rather, Shimura Naoki, was going to go home and get some goddamn sleep.

. . .

"Wow, Shimura, you look like crap," Akimichi said bluntly as Naoki trudged into the classroom.

Naoki made a noncommittal grunt and flopped down in his seat, resting his head against the nice, cool surface of the desk.

He heard the scrape of a chair, then a voice that would probably haunt his nightmares said, "Good morning, Shimura-kun."

It was Namikaze fucking Minato, who somehow looked as energetic as always, his halo of bright blonde hair shining in the morning light like a miniature sun. There wasn't a single scratch anywhere to be found. No bags under his eyes either.

How. What. Why. Who. _How_?

Naoki managed to stay awake during all his classes through sheer fury. If looks could kill, Namikaze would have twin holes drilled through the back of his skull from the force of Naoki's glare.

His mind was made up. He would complete Danzo-sama's mission even if it killed him. The moment class ended, Naoki popped a soldier pill into his mouth and chewed through the foul, bitter taste without a single flinch. There would be hell to pay when it wore off, but if the pill lived up to its advertised effect of three days and three nights without needing rest, then he should be able to sleep it off over the weekend.

Naoki was already wise to all of Namikaze's shenanigans. He followed the blonde through the women's bathhouse without blushing. He climbed the same unguarded section of wall to get into the Senju compound when Namikaze delivered a letter to Mito-sama. He raced ahead to the manhole that he knew Namikaze would reappear from when the blonde decided to take another jaunt through the underground sewers.

He waited silently in the tree as Namikaze made another batch of sealing tags.

Then, at the stroke of midnight, he followed Namikaze to Training Ground 44.

There had to be some kind of trick to it, how Namikaze was getting in and out unscathed, and Naoki was determined to find out what it was. Or rather, Hanoe had orders to find out, no matter how terrifying the stories about this place might be.

Naoki slipped the blank white mask out of his Academy backpack and pulled it down over his face. He was no longer Shimura Naoki, Academy student. He was Root Operative Hanoe, and he knew no fear.

The moment Namikaze over the fence, Hanoe followed right after in a few heartbeats, dropping down on the other side with only a muffled 'thump' in the grass to cushion his landing.

( _Warning! You do not meet the recommended level for this zone! Proceed anyway? Yes/No_ )

( _ **YES**_ _/No_ )

He looked up to see Namikaze disappearing into the dark forest. Time to put his stealth and tracking training to good use. If Namikaze could make it through this place unscathed, then so could he. If he just stayed aware and alert, then he should be able to outrun anything that came after him even if he couldn't beat it in a straight fight.

That confidence lasted until he heard the sounds of fighting ahead.

His heart missed a beat. Surely, not even Namikaze was that crazy, right?

Careful not to make any sound that might give him away, Hanoe took to the canopy, hopping from branch to branch to reach the sounds of conflict without being seen.

Oh Sage, it turned out Namikaze really _was_ that crazy. The air trembled as the roar of a massive tiger filled the forest, and its paw lashed out in a strike that would probably smash a human into unrecognizable pulp. The small blonde dodged the blow by a hairsbreadth and hopped across a small river, flinging a shuriken at the tiger as he fled. It missed by a scratch, leaving a small red line across the tiger's flank before embedding itself into a tree.

The tiger made a few ineffectual swipes at the blonde before realizing that it couldn't reach the other bank. It snarled as the shuriken stung at its pelt before its mighty muscles bunched up and it cleared the water in a single bound.

Namikaze danced back across the river to the other side. Then he retrieved his shuriken and flung it back, missing again with a scratch.

Hanoe watched slack-jawed as Namikaze kited the tiger back and forth across the river, always a few seconds away from becoming mincemeat, but also always just a split second faster to get across the water than the apex predator. Namikaze was _training_. Throwing projectiles at a moving target ( _Skill EXP gained: +1.12% Shuriken Jutsu_ ), instantaneous water walking ( _Skill EXP gained: +0.81% Chakra Control_ ), and dodging in poor visibility ( _Skill EXP gained: +0.82% Sensory Awareness_ ) – things that sane people trained using a target, a pond, and a blindfold respectively. Not a tiger, a running river, and a forest at the dead of night, because no one was that suicidal.

And yet, it was working. The scratches were slowly building up and getting deeper. The tiger was still nowhere near dead, but it was visibly slowing down as the cuts started to cause it pain.

Hanoe was so engrossed in watching the fight below him, however, that he didn't hear the sibilant hiss behind him until it was already too late.

When he turned, the open maw of the snake was already surging towards him, wide enough to swallow him whole. He didn't have time for anything except a strangled scream.

Death, however, was intercepted by a yellow flash.

Something yanked hard on Hanoe's arm, nearly ripping it out of its socket, and the forest suddenly disappeared into a flash of blinding light as the roar of an explosion drowned out all other sound and left his ears ringing. The mask protected him from the worst of the blast, but even through his sleeves, he could feel how the skin on his arms had been scalded by the heat.

( _-Ding- You have slain: Hanging Willow Python! EXP gained: +5.89%_ )

His back slammed into the ground. On instinct alone, he rolled with his momentum, curling up to protect his head as he bounced violently through the undergrowth.

There was a 'crunch' of someone landing heavily next to him, and when Hanoe finally blinked away the dancing spots in his vision, he saw Namikaze Minato gazing down at him with blonde hair streaked in both soot and twigs. It was the first time he had seen the blonde anything less than pristine.

"Shimura," Namikaze said, and this time there was no polite honorific at the end, only a hard, flat edge to Namikaze's voice that promised violence. "Get up. You pulled aggro, and everything in here will one-shot you. The tower at the center is a safe zone. You need to _run_."

' _Run.'_ Like finding a long lost puzzle piece, an old memory finally wiggled loose in Naoki's brain.

There had been a dark room, once, where he had fought a clone of himself and lost. The memory was clouded by exhaustion and pain, but Naoki remembered now. A blonde had come through the door, another clone had formed, and then suddenly, a copy of Namikaze Minato had charged towards him with murder in its eyes.

Death had been intercepted by a yellow flash back then too. And it had told him to run.

So he ran.

He had lost his mask somewhere in the fall, so the sharp edges of branches and leaves tore at his face as he tore through them. He heard howls, hisses, and clicks in the darkness, saw glimpses of flashing teeth and beady eyes, but he didn't stop running to see what kind of beasts they belonged to. The moon was nothing more than a thin sliver in the sky, but it was enough, just barely, to see the black silhouette of the tower against the night sky. Almost there. Almost safe.

Thank the Sage for that soldier pill. He pushed himself past his top speed, past the limits of what his usual chakra pool would allow, and the soldier pill in his bloodstream burned with the extra chakra he needed to keep running. He put on a burst of speed the moment the base of the tower was in sight and didn't stop until he felt himself crash into the hard, concrete wall.

Finally, he dared to look back.

There was a rustle in the bushes. The moonlight glinted off dozens of beastly eyes that watched him hungrily, but Namikaze had told him the truth, and they didn't approach the tower.

Naoki sank down against the wall in relief, gasping for breath.

Then he waited, for god only knew how long, until there was a sharp cry of birds suddenly taking flight from a nearby tree and a whistle of rushing wind before Namikaze appeared at his side.

He was covered from head to toe in grime this time, and in the dim light, it was hard to tell how much was dirt and how much was blood. The grime glistened darkly, though, Naoki had a sinking feeling that most of it was blood. Even Namikaze's bright blonde hair had lost its usual brilliance.

But his eyes were hard and bright, like steel.

Namikaze held out something smooth and white towards him.

It was his porcelain ROOT mask, with a crack running straight through the left eye. Naoki swallowed, and took it. There was no point in denying the obvious.

Namikaze said quietly, "Danzo sent you."

It was more of a statement than a question, so Naoki didn't bother to answer. The two of them lapsed into an uneasy silence before Namikaze shifted and sat down next to Naoki, letting out a small sigh.

"I didn't think he'd send you of all people," Namikaze said with a wry smile, "though in hindsight, he probably thought I'd hold back against a classmate. Sorry about that."

Oh. Well, that explained a lot. Naoki suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

'Suspected of traitorous behavior', those were the words Danzo had used. The mission had been a test after all. Just not a test for Naoki. It had been a test for Namikaze Minato all along, and Naoki had only been the bait in the trap. Danzo hadn't acknowledged him at all. Hadn't valued him for anything except his convenience in a greater plan.

Underneath the underneath, Shimura Naoki had been nothing more than a tool after all. Wasn't that what true shinobi were meant to be? He got what he wanted. Haha, so why wasn't he happy at all? His throat ached, his eyes burned, and he desperately wanted to punch someone in the face.

Oh hell no, if he cried in front of Namikaze Minato of all people, he would spontaneously combust from embarrassment.

Namikaze Minato, who might just be the dumbest traitor in the world, politely stared up at the sky and pretended not to notice as Naoki smeared his dirty sleeve across his face to hide the sniffle.

"Who the hell are you anyway?" Naoki growled, latching onto his annoyance to distract himself. If there was one thing Namikaze was good for, it was being a constant source of frustration.

"I'm the man who's going to become Hokage," Namikaze said quietly, though the strange heaviness in his tone quickly dissipated when he chuckled, "Or at least, I hope so. I'm pretty sure it's the last major storyline quest."

Then he stood, dusting himself off, and said, "Which is why I really shouldn't be doing this, but I need the levels more than I need the reputation points."

"Why is it that nothing you say ever makes any sense," Naoki groaned, but he got to his feet as well.

Namikaze just smiled and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. Naoki recognized it immediately as the same kind of tag that Namikaze had been making earlier.

"You might want to cover your ears," Namikaze said, and that was Naoki's only warning before Namikaze lit the tag, attached it to a kunai, and tossed it as hard as he could at a large boulder in the distance.

It detonated with an earthshaking 'boom'.

' _I guess that explains how he killed the snake,_ ' Naoki thought.

The first explosion, however, seemed to set off tags that had been hidden in the surroundings, and the first blast was followed by four or five more simultaneously, which in turn triggered even more explosions, until Naoki was forced to brace himself against the tower wall as the entire forest was blown sky high. It was too bright to open his eyes and too loud to hear anything beyond the deafening roar of fiery destruction. The ground shook so violently that it knocked him to his knees.

( _-Ding- You have slain: Brush Tiger (x11), Iron Beak Falcon (x15), Giant Man-Eating Centipede (x16), Poisonous Centipede (x84), Southern Praying Mantis (x10), Yellow Tail Wasps (x31), Vine Snake (x59), Hanging Willow Python (x17), Giant Blood Leech (x23), Blood Leech (x115), Drop Bear (x19), Freshwater Piranha (x21), Ancient Fish of the Depths (x1)! EXP Gained: +1529.98%!_ )

( _-Ding- Level up! You are now level 16! +5 Attribute Points!_ )  
( _-Ding- Level up! You are now level 17! +5 Attribute Points!_ )  
( _-Ding- Level up! You are now level 18! +5 Attribute Points!_ )  
( _-Ding- Level up! You are now level 19! +5 Attribute Points!_ )  
( _-Ding- Level up! You are now level 20! +5 Attribute Points!_ )  
( _-Ding- Level up! You are now level 21! +5 Attribute Points!_ )  
( _-Ding- Level up! You are now level 22! +5 Attribute Points!_ )  
( _-Ding- Level up! You are now level 23! +5 Attribute Points!_ )  
( _-Ding- Level up! You are now level 24! +5 Attribute Points!_ )  
( _-Ding- Level up! You are now level 25! +5 Attribute Points!_ )  
( _-Ding- Level up! You are now level 26! +5 Attribute Points!_ )  
( _-Ding- Level up! You are now level 27! +5 Attribute Points!_ )  
( _-Ding- Level up! You are now level 28! +5 Attribute Points!_ )  
( _-Ding- Level up! You are now level 29! +5 Attribute Points!_ )  
( _-Ding- Level up! You are now level 30! +5 Attribute Points!_ )  
( _Achievement Unlocked: Up to Eleven – Defeat 10 enemies in a single turn._ )  
( _Achievement Unlocked: One Man Army – Defeat 100 enemies in a single turn._ )  
( _Achievement Unlocked: Weak but Skilled – Defeat an enemy more than 10 levels higher than you._ )

"What. The Fuck. Was that?" Naoki gasped when the explosions finally died down.

The forest was _gone_. There was nothing but broken husks of trees and charred earth in every direction he looked. The scorch marks ended distressingly close to the tower itself – what would have happened to them if Namikaze misjudged the size of the explosions?

"Level 3 Exploding Tags," Namikaze answered mildly, "They do 300 points of AOE damage, and setting one off with another bypasses the timer cooldown." He glanced off into the distance and broke into a smile, saying, "Looks like the ANBU are coming."

Naoki opened his mouth, then closed it without saying anything. There were so many questions that he didn't even know where to start, but the most pressing was probably: exactly how much trouble they were in for completely obliterating a training ground that had existed since the founding of Konoha? And while Danzo's mission might have been bogus from the start, how badly was Naoki going to be punished for failing it in such a spectacular fashion?

Namikaze seemed to sense his depressed mood, and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"Don't worry," the sunshine blonde said, "You're not in as much trouble as you think. Though, I should probably apologize in advance, because this might hurt a little."

( _SPD 86 + 75 = SPD 161_ )

"Wha-?" Naoki began in alarm, but before he could even finish the first word, Namikaze _blurred_ , too fast for the eye to see, and all Naoki felt was a sharp blow to the back of his neck before the world went black.

. . .

Naoki woke up in a hospital.

His first word as he bolted upright in his cot was a furious, "Namikaze-!"

"Is long gone, I'm afraid," said a kindly voice next to his bedside, and when Naoki turned to look, he got yet another surprise in what felt like an endless chain of bewildering events that was somehow always Namikaze's fault.

"S-Sandaime-sama," Naoki stuttered, and did his best to bow his head respectfully despite being in a hospital bed.

The man chuckled, however, and said, "There's no need for any of that. No one is watching, after all."

The hospital room was otherwise empty, Naoki realized, despite the fact that there were three other beds in the low-priority care room. He could see two ANBU through the viewing window on the door who were probably posted outside to make sure no one entered. Or left. The fact that no one else was watching only made Naoki warier, not less.

The Hokage sighed and said, "I suppose it's too much to expect you to relax when you hardly know what's going on. You have questions, I'm sure. Since I fear I have several things I must ask of you as well, it seems only fair to allow you the courtesy of asking first."

"Am I in trouble?" was the first thing he asked, obviously.

At this, the Hokage smiled.

"No. Not at all. You should be commended for your bravery, even if you ultimately failed to stop the infiltrator."

Infiltrator? Then –

"Where's...Namikaze?" Naoki asked.

"Dead," the Sandaime said wryly, "He was killed in the explosion that you barely survived."

"What? He didn't-!"

Naoi stopped himself short. There was a sick feeling of dread pooling in his stomach, a feeling that he had gotten caught up in something much bigger and uglier than he was ready for. Did he really want to look underneath the underneath? Naoki hesitated, but only for a moment, before deciding that yes, he did.

Steeling himself, Naoki asked, "...where is he, really?"

"That," Sandaime said tiredly, "is something I would like to know as well. From the last communication the hunter squad sent, he's halfway to Kiri by now, along with all the scrolls he stole."

Naoki leaned back against his pillows, stunned. Namikaze Minato, a traitor. It just wasn't - how was it even – Namikaze was a complete pushover, a flake, too stupidly nice to even be a shinobi, never mind an infiltrator. Had it all just been an act to deflect suspicion? The thought was surprisingly bitter, which was stupid, because he didn't even like Namikaze. Everyone else might have been pulled into the blonde's orbit, but Naoki had never seen Namikaze as anything but an obstacle...right?

Sandaime watched the conflicted emotions play across Naoki's face in silence before adding gravely, "You realize why this knowledge cannot leave the room. It would damage our reputation significantly if word got out that an academy student successfully broke into the Hokage tower, prodigy or not." His gaze softened slightly, and he added, "And I think many of your classmates would be hurt deeply to know a friend abandoned the village. Please spare them that."

Naoki swallowed and managed a mute nod.

Sandaime laid a comforting and on his shoulder and asked gently, "Can you tell me anything that might help us understand the situation? Anything at all from your observation mission?"

Oh. So Sandaime knew about his...his mission. Naoki wasn't sure how to feel about that, honestly. Embarrassed that he had failed? Angry that he had been used? Relieved that he was actually useful?

No, these thoughts were useless right now. ' _Think, Naoki_ ,' he told himself, ' _You followed him for three days, you must remember at least something useful!_ '

And suddenly, he realized, he did.

"'I'm the man who's going to be Hokage'," Naoki repeated, despite the fact that it didn't make any sense. "That's what he told me, before he blew everything up."

The current Hokage's eyebrows went up a fraction, but showed no other sign of surprise.

"Hm," Sandaime finally murmured, stroking his beard pensively, "A rather odd thing for a defector to say, isn't it?"

Naoki added, "Then he said he needed the levels more than the reputation, whatever that meant."

At this, the Sandaime let out a dry chuckle.

"Well, that does narrow things down a bit. There are only a few things a shinobi would prize above their reputation and their village."

Naoki blinked. Wait, that wasn't right. Didn't the rules of the shinobi say - "The village always comes first."

"Ideally, that would be the case," the Sandaime said with a wry, almost regretful smile, "but you will find that underneath the underneath, shinobi are just as complicated and flawed as any other human being. There are things that can overshadow our faithfulness to the village, because they are the reason why the village is worthy of our faith in the first place. Family, for one. Friends. Justice. Even Love."

Naoki tried not to pull a face. Well, there went all of his lingering respect for the Hokage, fancy titles like 'God of Shinobi' notwithstanding. This was even worse than the Will of Fire bullshit that the Academy shoved down their throats.

Namikaze abandoning Konoha for love. Ha. Good joke, pull the other one.

Despite his best efforts, the disbelief must have been written all over his face, because the Sandaime just smiled and gave him a patronizing pat on the head.

"You'll understand someday."

. . .

"Gotta be better than that!" the red-haired girl crowed in triumph as she bounced from ledge to ledge, propelling herself straight up the side of the building until she was perched at the very top.

Her caretaker wheezed and gasped from the street below, calling out feebly, "Please, Kushina-hime! Come down! You're going to hurt yourself!"

She just grinned from ear to ear and blew a raspberry before bolting across the roof and taking a running leap onto the adjacent building, all to the music of her caretaker's cry of dismay. Hah! That'll teach them to lock her up in a room to practice her calligraphy for so many days in a row. And besides, her handwriting was fine! Who cared if the third stroke of a character was half a millimeter thicker than the second?

"Hime!" Another voice cried out, and Kushina looked across the rooftops to see several of her clan ninja speeding towards her as well. Crap. Rooftops were a no-go then.

She took another running leap off the roof, her fingers latching onto a gutter on the opposite building as she kicked off it and caught a clothesline on her way down. Latching onto a particularly sturdy looking bedsheet, she used it to zip down the line onto an open patio, and jumped from there onto the cloth canopy of a stall below that slid her neatly onto the street again.

"Catch me if you can!" Kushina yelled over her shoulder as she sprinted around a corner.

Only to crash headfirst into someone. Someone small, because she bowled them right over, and they both went crashing down in a confused tangle of limbs. When the world finally righted itself, Kushina found herself straddling a rather dusty-looking blonde who was around her age.

Instead of seeming stunned or outraged at being summarily run over, however, his face broke out into the biggest, dopiest smile she had ever seen.

"Kushina," he wheezed, gazing up at her with eyes that were so brilliantly blue they couldn't possibly be real, "I came to save you."

. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter killed me. I am dead. I also dragged this chapter into death with me, because I'm petty like that.
> 
> Luckily, I have a fantastic, awesome, incredible, miracle-working beta-reader that managed to resurrect both of us. Give up a round of applause for MoonlitMelody, because without them, this chapter would still be buried six feet under beneath a pile of horrendous typos and plot holes. Likewise, special thanks to Lupegarou4488 for encouragement, fantastic world-building advice, and a much needed second opinion.
> 
> That being said, I am happy to say that the derailing has officially begun. Attention all passengers, this trainwreck is now departing from Canon Station. We may revisit it later, but it will most likely be destroyed beyond all recognition by the time we return.
> 
> Hopefully, the chapter length will soon stabilize, because if they keep getting 4000 words longer every time, then this story really WILL kill me.


End file.
